The Death of Nathan Scott
by pablodivaridesagain
Summary: She killed Nathan Scott and she doesn't care that she knew him when he was still a junior and got drunk in class because of his heartsick. OneShot. Rated T


**Hey y'all…so, after this, you're all going to be like holy moly, call the men in the white coats. But I was feeling especially angsty and I was really mad at Anna for reasons unknown so I decided to kill off Nathan and make her do it. I love Nathan though. Haley is damn lucky to be the one having his babies. Here it is. Rated T for Teen. **

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Nathan Scott is twenty-seven, the point-guard for the Knicks and one of the richest men in the world. He is also, now, dead. His wife, Haley James Scott, and three children James, Catherine and Eleanor survive Nathan Scott.

I killed him.

When I first met Nathan Scott, we were juniors and he loved Haley with all of his heart. But then she left and he spun out of control. I remember his brother standing just in reach, carefully mending Nathan's broken heart like one would heal a baby bird.

I knew Nathan would never be the same. Brooke knew. Peyton knew. Lucas knew. Haley didn't know, but she was a stupid rock star for leaving him in the first place.

Tim Smith came to the funeral after three years of absence. He came with six roses for Haley, a sad hug for the three children, a half-hearted grope for Peyton and Brooke and a heart wrenching sob for Nathan's corpse.

He doesn't acknowledge my presence. I didn't expect him too.

My brother has a daughter he calls May. I don't know why. Her name is Claire and she was born in September. He shakes his head and says, in a teasing tone of course, because he doesn't possess anything else, that I wouldn't get it, that I never do.

I feel like killing him. But I don't. I do have a heart.

It takes the detectives a year and three days to figure out who killed Nathan Scott. The case was never let go, was never forgotten about, never shoved in a dusty drawer. Nathan Scott died and until the country got answers, it wasn't going to rest. Because Nathan Scott died.

They go to my brother first. He tells them I ran off to France. He's lying. I hated French in high school, and I hate it even to this day.

They aren't fooled and my brother is put in jail for a day. I take care of May because her mother is long gone, dancing in Las Vegas in purple feathers and spandex.

Brooke would have had a coronary at the fashion flaw.

Brooke and Lucas had a daughter named Sawyer. Then they divorced and Peyton and Lucas had a son named Davis. The irony of it all amazes me. Lucas sticks around for both Sawyer and Davis and raises them. Brooke and Peyton remain best friends.

I'm watching TV when they come for me at last. Bruce Willis is doing what he does best: action and drunken ramblings, and they kick my door down after ten minutes of long, continuous knocking.

By the end of that, I'm considering turning myself in because of the incessant banging.

They have me in jail-but not in the cell-when Haley confronts me. I'm sitting at a desk with my hand cuffed to the table. She sits calmly, then looks me in the eye and backhands me so hard I start to bleed. She's just as much a pistol as she was when she decked Rachel Gatina in senior year.

Haley seethes for a while, asks me questions and doesn't wait for the answers because she knows just as well as I do that she doesn't want to know the truth. She just wants me to burn at the stake for what I did to Nathan Scott.

So does the rest of the world. They're almost as pissed and anytime America's-Sweetheart Haley Scott comes on stage, they stand and cheer so hard, Nathan would probably be clamping his hands over his ears up in heaven.

I'm more than sure that Nathan's in heaven. He's a good guy, one of the best. Well, he was. He's dead now.

But soon, I will be too. As a matter of fact, I'm sitting in a stuffy courtroom, about to confess all of my wrong doings, with a disgusting bald spot on the top of my head because of a cat fight in prison, staring out at the family of Nathan Scott. Lucas is there, Peyton and Brooke on either side, watching me coolly as though he had never seen me before that day...as if we didn't have any history.

Peyton stares right through me too.

But Haley's looking me dead in the eye, showing me very clearly that she does not give a shit that I'm about to be killed in front of her. She does not care that I'm someone she used to know. Nathan's dead and that's what matters to her.

My brother's there too, staring at my knee. None of the children are there. Not May, not James or Catherine or Eleanor, not Davis or Sawyer, definitely not the child I gave birth to when I was twenty-five. I don't even know that child's name. He's in someone else's custody in Miami.

"Last words?" the guard grunts. I try to ignore the irony. Everyone is so sure I'll be convicted.

I look at Mouth, who sits directly behind Lucas Scott. He's there with his wife. She's blonde and she looks at me as though she found me on the bottom of her fancy Prada shoe.

"My name is Anna Taggaro. I hate labels. I killed Nathan Scott. And I regret nothing."

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**Yeah. So, thanks Snow, for beta-ing this. I am wholly expecting people to pass this off as weird, but you flame and I will sic Dean Winchester on your sorry booty. nods very seriously And he's mean. But Siriusly hott:D**


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